


Held

by Speary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 07:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: It was easy to tell himself that walking close was about safety, nothing more. It was about safety, a little, but that didn’t explain why he didn’t stay as close to Sam when they were wandering through dangerous places or even when they were just strolling down the streets of some no-name town. He was always walking close to Cas, and Dean knew that this was about something more.





	Held

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jojodacrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojodacrow/gifts).



> This was written for a dear soul, JoJo. She's maybe one of the kindest people ever. She's heading into surgery this week, so send all the happy thoughts her way.

It was easy to tell himself that walking close was about safety, nothing more. It was about safety, a little, but that didn’t explain why he didn’t stay as close to Sam when they were wandering through dangerous places or even when they were just strolling down the streets of some no-name town. He was always walking close to Cas, and Dean knew that this was about something more. Well, he’d know if he let himself really think about it for more than one minute.

 

The key to getting by was to not think about it too much. Some days though, it was all he could think about. It was a desire that seemed to burn him up just a little. It was the sort of thing he worried about in the quiet times. At night when he was somewhat alone, and Cas was on the far end of the world doing god knows what, he’d think that maybe everything would be better if he just kept the closeness, kept the proximity to Cas in place. But then he had to consider using words to make it all more permanent, and that was where the idea crumbled.

 

Some nights he’d curl his hands into the sheets and hold on, pretending that it was Cas’ hand there. It was something at least.

 

There was a little case a few hours from the bunker. They could take care of it and get back in the same day. Sam had explained that it was likely just a quick salt and burn, but that the difficulty would lie in finding the body. The cemetery was filled with unmarked graves. It might be a bit of work, but they could handle it. Then Sam dropped the surprise. “I’m not going on this one.”

 

“Why,” Dean asked.

 

“You really don’t need me for this one. I could work on some of the archiving stuff. Besides, Cas is gonna make this a cakewalk. He’ll likely be able to sense who’s buried where.” Sam made a convincing point. Still, Dean was in one of those phases where thoughts on Cas were shifted away from the _he’s just my buddy_ category. Dean knew that he’d have to rein that in if he was going to keep from making an ass of himself. Well, he’d been doing it for years, so he’d draw on past practices.

 

They tossed a couple of bags in the trunk just in case this became an overnighter. It was best to prepare for all potential possibilities. Just the thought of spending the night with Cas though, without Sam, sent Dean’s head down paths best left unexplored. So it was that he found himself driving with a firm grip on the steering wheel and the music cranked up too high. Cas was kind enough to let this be the way of things.

 

Dean shot glances at him every now and then. Cas just stared straight ahead past a squint. The sun was high in the sky now, and the road was wavy with the afternoon heat. There was something almost pleasant about it all. Then Cas reached for the stereo and turned down the volume to almost silent. A little Seger still hummed through the speakers. “Did you know that Sam reserved us a room for tonight?”

 

And no, Dean most certainly did not know that. He was still operating on the assumption that this was a quicky, and no, not that kind of quicky. “Why’d he do that?”

 

“He didn’t want you pushing yourself. He’s worried that you’ll crash into a tree or something.”

 

“He does realize that there’s two of us on this case, right?” Dean rolled his eyes a little as he said it.

 

“He said that you rarely let other people drive.” Cas sighed and continued, “I suppose he believed that you’d rather hit a tree than let me drive your car.”

 

“That doesn’t make sense. You’ve driven her.” Dean shot a glance at Cas.

 

“Well, no. I actually haven’t. It’s unimportant.” Cas was staring straight ahead again. His profile was a bit stoic in that moment and made Dean think that maybe Cas was irritated with him.

 

“You wanna drive?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you mad at me about something?” Dean squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter.

 

“No.” Cas sighed again, and then turned toward Dean. “Sam wasn’t wrong.”

 

“About what?”

 

“About you and driving and choosing to hit a tree over letting me drive. You would choose this over a much more reasonable and safe option.”

 

“I just asked you if you wanted to drive.”

 

“Because you knew I’d decline.”

 

Dean pulled over and put the car in park. “This is me letting you drive my car.” Dean got out and rounded the car to the passenger’s side. Cas was still sitting there. Dean reached down and opened the door. “Move over.”

 

Cas looked at him for a second more and then slid over to the driver’s seat. Dean got in, and they were back on the road. Dean felt weird in the passenger’s seat. He moved his foot as if he were controlling the accelerator. “You’re nervous.”

 

“I’m just adjusting.”

 

“You don’t trust me,” Cas said as he shot a glance Dean’s way.

 

Dean took a deep breath and let it all out in a single gust. “I trust you with my life. I trust you with Sam’s life. I trust you.” Cas’ body seemed to release some of the tension that had been keeping him ramrod straight at the wheel. “What’s this all about?”

 

Dean turned a little more in the seat and had his knee pulled up into the space between them. He settled his arm on the back of the seat and waited. When Cas finally spoke, it was in a quiet graveled tone. “The cosmic being that controls the Empty,” he started and paused to swallow.

 

“Yeah,” Dean encouraged. It worried him, that they somehow were on this topic. It was concerning that Cas’ time there still haunted him. At least that’s where Dean assumed this was going.

 

“He looked at my thoughts. He told me that he knew what I feared, who I hated.” He paused again, and this time licked his lips. Dean licked his own lips as he watched Cas.

 

“I suppose he intended to use that against you. Frankly, I didn’t think you feared anything.” Dean slid his arm over the seat so that he could give Cas’ shoulder a little squeeze, just let him know that he wasn’t there anymore and that he was safe now.

 

“He also told me that he knew who I loved.” He glanced at Dean. So many things can be made clear with a glance. They’d looked at each other a thousand times, maybe more. In all of those times, need and fear, longing and grief had been communicated. This glance was a punctuation mark of sorts, a hard stop on the word _loved_. Dean talked himself down from the heights. Of course Cas loved them. He was family. He loved all of the Winchesters enough to die for them and sacrifice for them.

 

And yet.

 

“Just twenty more miles ‘til you exit,” Dean informed him when the quiet stretched on for too long.

 

Cas sighed. “I know.” He then reached for the stereo and cranked it up nice and loud. “Travelin’ Man” filled the car with a bit too much meaning. They drove on like that until they reached the exit.

 

\---

 

The cemetery was huge. It spanned what seemed to be a near square mile of mostly unmarked graves. Someone had planted trees, large sycamores, throughout the place to give it something of a park-like setting. The graves that were marked, were old, dating back to the early 1800s. Some people brought their kids to the cemetery for walks in the afternoon.

 

Because of that, Dean and Cas could only really poke around at night. Even then, it was a risk. Dean wondered if it even really mattered whether or not they took care of this particular spirit. It hadn’t killed anyone. It had just been a nuisance. How this case even landed on Sam’s radar was a bit of a mystery. Dean didn’t want to give up just yet though. It would feel like a waste to just wander the cemetery and then go home.

 

The first day got them to the cemetery. They walked over most of it. Dean noticed that Cas was keeping a bit of distance between them. A few minutes into their walk, and Cas said, “I’m going to check the west side. You check the east. We’ll meet in the middle.”

 

Dean wanted to protest. It didn’t make sense for them to separate. After all, it was Cas that was going to be sensing things. “Fine,” Dean said instead.

 

By the time evening was descending upon them, Cas had covered the whole cemetery, even Dean’s half. Dean came to his side and walked with him back to the car. He walked close, letting his knuckles graze along the back of Cas’ hand.

 

Cas glanced at him, then turned his hand. He curled his fingers into Dean’s palm, and just kept right on walking. Dean had a tiny panic. This was new. This was not what they did. He could question it, send it all packing. He could shut up. He went with plan B and let his hand quietly sweat in Cas’ hand.

 

They separated at the car. Cas went right to the driver’s seat, and Dean went right to the passenger’s seat. They drove slowly away from the cemetery toward town. Dean did not process the turn of events well while they drove. Instead his mind was like the snapping and crackling noises heard when a hot pan receives a few slabs of bacon. Dean’s stomach growled. He was rather hungry. Cas pulled into the motel that Sam had picked for them. There was a diner on the end. “We should eat first,” Cas suggested.

 

“Yeah.”

 

\---

 

They sat across from each other with food laid out on the sticky formica table. Cas made a showing of picking at the french fries on his plate. He mostly stared out the window, like he was looking for something. “You okay?” Dean asked as he swapped their plates. Nothing wrong with eating two burgers. Cas smiled a little.

 

“Just trying to figure out what we’re missing.”

 

“You and me both.” Dean began noisily chomping on the burger.

 

“Maybe we can do a locator spell. It would be different from what we’ve done before to find humans, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

 

“Sure, I’m in.” Dean wanted to make it clear that he trusted Cas. The conversation in the car was still whirling around in his head. “Do we need any special supplies?”

 

“I’m fairly certain that you have what we need in the car.” He turned back to Dean then and watched him eat. Dean gave up halfway through the burger. Turned out that two burgers were a little much, or maybe it was the way Cas looked at him. Or maybe it was the warm press of his leg under the table.

 

\---

 

They checked into their room. Sam got them a single, presumably because Cas didn’t need to sleep. Sam was just rude like that, Dean had thought. They brought in their bags and Cas gathered supplies. Cas did all of the set-up for the spell. Dean sat on the bed and watched.

 

There was something graceful about the way Cas moved. Even the simple things he did looked like a dance. His long, fingers seemed to dance over the little pile of plants that he was sorting. He had a knife that he laid out in front of a bowl. He lit a candle, blew it out, lit it again, and then blew it out a second time. He lit it a third time and let it burn. “Help me carry everything to the floor in front of the bed,” he commanded.

 

“Okay.” Dean picked up the candle and the knife. He laid them on the floor. Cas brought the plants. He set them in the bowl one at a time, whispering words with each addition.

 

Cas tapped the edges of the bowl with the knife and then set it back down. He reached out his hands on either side of the bowl, palms up. “Take my hands.” It was the second time Dean had held Cas’ hand that day. He’d gripped Cas’ hand before to help him up after a fall, or for some other justifiable reason. This moment was easily explained and justified, but there was something about the way Cas looked at him as he held Dean’s hands that made Dean feel like the world was dropping out from under him.

 

“Do I need to say anything?” Dean asked.

 

“No.” The one word was delivered gently. Time passed, and Dean kept holding on. Cas muttered a few more words, none of them in English or even Latin. Dean would have known them. Cas’ thumb slipped once in a gentle arch along Dean’s wrist. Dean noticed it. In fact his whole world devolved to that one point of contact. There was a bare chance that Cas might repeat the move, and Dean was going to make sure that he tracked every miniscule bit of it. The feel of Cas there, the sudden warmth that traveled like a mad river up his arm and straight to his chest.

 

Cas licked his lips. He swayed a little. Dean squeezed his hands, anchoring him to this place, to this moment. “Is it working?” Dean whispered.

 

Cas didn’t respond right away. His eyes seemed to darken a little. His lips curled up into a half smile. “I believe it did.”

 

“So you know where our spirit is?”

 

“The vision came to me some time ago.”

 

Dean’s brows came together. “Then what are we doing?”

 

“Enjoying the moment.” Cas let his thumb do the sweep along Dean’s wrist again. Dean didn’t process the fact that they were still holding hands until then. “Close your eyes,” Cas said. He used a tone that made Dean want to obey.

 

So he did.

 

Eyes closed, hands held, Dean let his mind focus on Cas. He was there and maybe everywhere. Only their hands touched, but it felt like his whole body was warm, held even. He almost spoke, made a joke that could lighten whatever this was between them. Cas seemed to sense it and pulled his hands just a little. It made Dean lean forward. Cas’ words tickled past his ear, an embrace of sorts, “Calm your thoughts. Let yourself just be.”

 

Dean felt his hands start sweating again. It wasn’t hot in the room. His heart was slamming into his ribs. This was not what relaxation felt like. He kept his eyes closed though. Cas spoke again, still close to Dean’s ear. “You wanted to ask me a question earlier.”

 

“I did?” Dean cracked open one eye. Cas was right there, cheek practically resting against Dean.

 

“Close your eyes.” Dean complied. “And, yes, you did.” Dean’s body swayed a little, and it brought his own cheek into contact with Cas’. As if to remind him, Cas said, “He told me who I loved.”

 

“Who do you love?” Dean asked. He kept his eyes closed. He breathed and counted it a success.

 

“You know the answer to that.” Cas was so close that Dean could feel his lips move as the words took form. The breath of the words ghosted over his ear. He let his thumb stroke back and forth over the edge of Cas’ hand.

 

“Do I?” Dean whispered into the dark.

 

“I told you before how I felt, how I feel, how I’ll always feel.” Dean opened his eyes. This time, Cas didn’t tell him to close them. “I love you enough to die for you.” His hand slid up Dean’s arm. “Enough to fight anything and everything.” His hand stopped on Dean’s neck, fingers curling back into Dean’s hair. “Enough to claw my way back and live for you.”

 

Dean leaned in. He wanted to taste love on Cas’ lips. It was something like coming home. And how he had been going so long without this, was one of life’s great mysteries. Cas deepened the kiss, pulled Dean closer, but not close enough. The items for the spell were still laid out between them. Dean held onto him though, let his fingers cling to the folds of seemingly endless trench coat. Cas lifted him up from the floor. Dean’s body seemed willing to do whatever Cas wanted. _Close your eyes. You got it. Hold my hands. Sure thing._ Even the unspoken commands were being followed.

 

Cas had him pressed back against the wall, breathing endearments into his neck between each press of his lips. “Do we need to go salt and burn tonight?” It was a dumb question. The nuisance spirit could wait. Dean’s pants situation, not so much.

 

Cas pulled back, ever so slightly. He let his eyes slide slowly over Dean. He pressed his body against Dean’s just a little more. “Is that what you want?” Dean struggled for a moment with words. He really only needed one, _No_. “It doesn’t seem like that is what you want, but if I’m wrong…”

 

“No.”

 

“You don’t want to go back to the cemetery then?” Cas’ brow kicked up like he knew good and well what Dean wanted, but he was enjoying the torment.

 

“Tomorrow, or maybe the next day. It can wait.” Dean rolled his hips a little against the tight press of Cas.

 

“What do you want?” Cas asked.

 

“I think you know.”

 

“Maybe I just want to hear you say it.” He paused a beat and added, “Finally.”

 

“I want you?”

 

“Good.” And again, it felt like a moment that they’d built toward, a full stop, a great big glaring truth that they maybe should have gotten to long ago.

 

“Good.” Dean kissed him again, and he took his hand. Cas walked him to the bed. It was good, maybe even great, and certainly somewhat close to perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for any kudos you feel like leaving and any kind words. You can also find me on Tumblr under the name [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/) or more often on Twitter under the name [Spearywrites](https://twitter.com/spearywrites)


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